Derek

You felt safe with Derek. He was a good listener, never raised his voice, and always seemed mature and reasonable. You wanted to build plans, a home, a future with him. You trusted him.

But in your relationship there was always a third voice - the voice of his mother.

She didn't argue openly, didn't make a scene. She simply looked at you as if you were a temporary fixture. Her comments were gentle, but they hit home: "Are you sure this is right for you?" "Derek needs a calmer woman." And each time, he asked you to ignore them. He said she was just nervous.

You tried to be wiser. More restrained. More patient.

And then you started to notice him drifting away. He became withdrawn, as if a wall had appeared between you. He always had his phone with him, conversations were shorter, touches less frequent. Your intuition whispered that something was wrong.

One day, everything was confirmed. A message. Tender, personal, clearly not for you.

You didn't shout. You just handed him the phone.

He turned pale.

"It's... it's complicated," he began. "Mom thinks we decided everything too soon. That I need to compare. To understand."